Emily Collins, my esteemed roommate/lifetime friend, had a birthday today.
She wished to celebrate by hosting a taco night, so we did exactly that.
We were sweatin’ the prepwork a little bit (yesterday evening / today after business hours but before the night began), not fully knowing who of the invitees were actually going to be in attendance. Despite my years of event coordination, cooking for small-gathering buffet-style parties was never a skill I acquired, so Emily handled the proportional measurements and I chopped vegetables as directed.
Everything was of course fine and great and now with our second food-themed hosting event under our belts (the first being a smaller brunch last month), I think we are really starting to get a feel for the process, and how our apartment space can be best utilized for optimal guest enjoyment.
I can’t even begin to describe how liberating it is to have company over and not have to worry about myself (nor have my guests express concern on my behalf), while a margarita pitcher and various types of Mexican beers float around the apartment. I simply uninvolve myself from those discussions. At this point in my adult life, with many acquaintances who are several years older in age than I, there is no underlying tone to make it a real focus or draw serious attention to drinking, or not drinking (save for maybe the craft beer fans). I can still talk about it, even — I am perfectly at ease encouraging other people to please by all means, because it bears no effect on me whatsoever.
One thing I am truly grateful for in my sobriety is that I have not lost the ability to party. More importantly, I have come to understand what the truer essence of “party” is…and it is not alcohol. True party is when you, and everyone around you, are having the best possible time living in that there exact moment, simply because you are alive and sharing the momentary, perhaps spontaneous, experience with one another. And I do believe we accomplished that tonight.
Happy Birthday, Emily Beth.